


Then Fall, Caesar

by Kate_Marley



Series: 1938 [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Historical, Touchy subject, historical allusions, threat of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:43:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3725803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Marley/pseuds/Kate_Marley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Austria’s rather unpleasant first (?) encounter with the dictator who dubs him “my homeland”, but refuses to call him by his true name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Then Fall, Caesar

_12 March 1938, past 8 p.m._

Austria stood in the city hall of Linz and stared in the direction of the man who held a speech on its balcony. One Wehrmacht officer was stood to his left, another to his right. They didn’t threaten him in any way, but their presence made it very clear that he was to attend the speech without moving. The man on the balcony talked about “providence”, which had allegedly given him the task “to return my dear homeland to the German Empire”.

The “dear homeland” frowned. True, his people had contemplated joining the German Empire after World War I. He had always had mixed feelings about the idea. On a personal level, he hadn’t been too upset the allies had prohibited it, because he had feared joining a Prussia-dominated Germany meant accepting _Prussia,_ of all people, as his overlord. From a political point of view, he would have accepted it, because he, like his people, had thought it would improve his economy.

Back in 1918, he hadn’t expected _that,_ though.

The man who avoided calling Austria by his country name ended his short speech and was met with frenetic applause. People then started to chant Hoffmann von Fallersleben’s “Song of the Germans” and the “Horst Wessel Song”. The latter almost made Austria cringe, but he managed to retain his composure. When they sang “Die Knechtschaft dauert nur noch kurze Zeit” _(The time of bondage will last but a little while now),_ Austria sent an arrow prayer to Heaven, hoping _his_ time of bondage wouldn’t last too long.

The man stepped from the balcony into the room, but returned several times when the applause wouldn’t cease. Austria was more than mildly disgusted. _This is a theatre performance,_ he thought. And too many of his people were playing along.

At last, the door to the balcony was closed, and the man didn’t return to it.

“Ah”, he then said, “there it is.”

Several seconds passed before Austria realized he meant _him._ His frown deepened.

The man stepped closer and stared at Austria levelly. His gaze betrayed no emotion; neither did Austria’s. They weren’t eyeball to eyeball with each other, though, because Austria was taller than him. Austria felt a strange sense of satisfaction as he realised it.

“My homeland”, the man said.

“Herr Schicklgruber”, Austria replied. He didn’t flinch as a cold object suddenly brushed against his face. It was the rifle of one of the Wehrmacht officers.

_“How_ did you just call me?”, the man asked with poorly concealed anger and pressed the rifle to Austria’s temple.

“As you seem to have a problem with my real name, I decided to make up for this deficiency by calling _you_ by your real name instead”, Austria said smoothly. He was surprised about his own lack of fear. It was as if he was watching himself from a distance, as if it wasn’t _his_ temple that rifle was pressed against.

The man was silent for several seconds. “I wonder if you would stay dead if I shot you now”, he finally said.

Austria thought about this. “Unlikely”, he judged and added in the poshest Viennese twang he could muster: “It is more likely you would just sully your uniform with my blood, as well as the wall behind me, I presume. Those rifles are rather messy as short-distance weapons.” He knew his drawling was likely to further provoke the man, which was basically the effect he was aiming for.

Sure enough, the man glared at him, eyes bulging. It was then that Austria realised the man despised him just as much as he despised the man. Austria could almost read his thoughts: _That effeminate person with the Jewish-sounding surname cannot be my homeland. This is impossible._ For a short moment, Austria wondered if he would really pull the trigger.

“Take it away”, the man said.

The two Wehrmacht officers gripped Austria’s upper arms and escorted him out of the room.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

At the back entrance of the city hall, a black car was already waiting. Austria stopped dead as he recognized the man standing next to the driver. “Ludwig”, he stammered.

Germany turned to him, blue eyes devoid of expression under the cap of his Wehrmacht uniform. He said nothing.

The human Wehrmacht officers guided him to the car. Germany opened the back door and was about to put his gloved hand on Austria’s head when Austria looked him in the eye. _“Et tu, Brute?”,_ he mouthed, too quiet for anyone else to hear. Germany drew back his hand as if it had been burned.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“Where are we going to?”, Austria asked when they left Linz.

“Berlin”, Germany said.

Austria had to admit to himself he was a little relieved. He had almost feared Germany would say “Dachau”.

“Can we drive past Regensburg?”, Austria asked some time later.

Germany seemed to think about this. “Ja”, he then said to Austria’s surprise.

That was good. So Austria could tell his brother he was still alive. After his disempowerment, Bavaria had chosen to leave Munich and retreat to Regensburg. The ancient city had been a main seat of the Agilolfingian and Carolingian dynasties, which had ruled the Duchy of Bavaria in the early middle ages. In Regensburg, Austria imagined, Bavaria quietly played “Gott mit dir, du Land der Bayern” on his zither and waited for better times.

“Can I have my piano transferred to Berlin?”, Austria asked after several minutes of silence.

Germany gazed at him in exhaustion. “Ja, you’ll also get that”, he sighed.

Austria nodded. _So he has a guilty conscience,_ he thought. _At least, that means he still has a conscience. The question remains for how long._

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set shortly before Austria’s so-called **“Anschluss”** to the German Reich. After it had lost its independence, the name “Österreich” (Austria) was forbidden and exchanged for “Ostmark” (Eastern March). I know this is a touchy subject. In order to keep the notes short, I only explain things that are not explained in the fic itself. If you think I should add more explanations, please let me know.
> 
> _“Et tu, Brute?_ **Then fall, Caesar!”** are Gaius Julius Caesar’s (100-44 BC) last words in William Shakespeare’s play _The Tragedy of Julius Caesar_ (Act III, Scene 1). “Et tu, Brute?” is Latin for “You too, Brutus?” and expresses Caesar’s surprise at finding his adoptive son Marcus Iunius Brutus (85-42 BC) among the conspirators who stabbed him to death. The quotation came to signify betrayal in Western culture.
> 
> Unlike Paul von Hindenburg (1847-1934, German President 1925-1934) in 1931, Austria wouldn’t confuse Braunau (Upper Austria) with Braunau (Bohemia; today’s Broumov, Czech Republic). That’s why I couldn’t use Hindenburg’s derogatory term for Hitler, “der kleine böhmische Gefreite” _(the little Bohemian private),_ and had to come up with another solution. Hitler didn’t want people to know about his ancestry, so Austria uses the birth name of his father Alois, who was born to an unmarried mother, as an insult and refuses to call him by the surname his father chose instead.
> 
> The **“Song of the Germans”** _(Das Lied der Deutschen,_ 1841) by August Heinrich Hoffmann von Fallersleben (1798-1874) is the (West) German national anthem since 1922 (only the third stanza since 1952). The **“Horst Wessel Song”** _(Horst-Wessel-Lied,_ 1927-1929) is a fight song of the paramilitary SA (Sturmabteilung) which became the hymn of the National Socialist party. There are lots of parodies, such as the “Calves’ March” _(Kälbermarsch),_ a song from the play “Schweik in the Second World War” _(Schweyk im Zweiten Weltkrieg,_ 1943) by German poet and dramatist Bertolt Brecht (1898-1956).
> 
> **“Gott mit dir, du Land der Bayern”** _(God be with thee, Land of the Bavarians)_ is the first line of the “Bayernhymne” _(Hymn of Bavaria),_ written by Konrad Max Kunz (1812-1875, melody) and Michael Öchsner (1816-1893, text) in 1860. It soon became a popular folk song and was adopted as the anthem of the German federal state of Bavaria in 1946.
> 
> A **zither** is a string instrument traditionally played in alpine Europe, e.g. Southern Germany, Austria, Hungary, and Slovenia.
> 
> There was a concentration camp to the east of **Dachau** in southern Bavaria from 1933 to 1945.
> 
> That’s the speech I’m quoting from in the beginning of the fic (German only, I’m sorry): <http://diepresse.com/home/politik/anschluss/369289/13-Maerz-1938_Fuhrer-und-Reichskanzler-Hitler-in-Linz->
> 
> ~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
> 
> German translation: <http://www.fanfiktion.de/s/552a4ee300042e2711cd20e7/1/So-falle-Caesar>


End file.
